Judith McNaught (3 page)

By the time she was finished, Theresa had a firm grasp of the workings of the child's facile mind as well

as the depth of her pain and the details of her current plight: Abandoned by her birth parents and rejected by two sets of adoptive parents, Julie had been reduced to spending her childhood on the fringes of the

Chicago slums in a succession of overcrowded foster homes. As a result, throughout her life, her only source of real human warmth and support came from her companions—grubby, unkempt kids like

herself whom she philosophically regarded as "her own kind," kids who taught her to filch goods from stores and, later, to cut school with them. Her quick mind and quicker fingers had made Julie so good at both that no matter how often she was shuffled off to a new foster home, she almost immediately achieved a certain popularity and respect among her peers, so much so that a few months ago, a group of boys had condescended to demonstrate to her the various techniques they used for breaking into cars and hot-wiring them—a demonstration that resulted in the entire group of them being busted by an alert Chicago cop, including Julie, who was merely an observer.

That day had marked Julie's first arrest, and although Julie didn't know it, it also marked Julie's first real

"break" because it ultimately brought her to Dr.

Wilmer's attention. After being—somewhat

unjustly—arrested for attempted auto theft, Julie was put into Dr. Wilmer's new, experimental program that included an intensive battery of psychological tests, intelligence tests, and personal interviews and evaluations conducted by Dr. Wilmer's group of volunteer psychiatrists and psychologists. The program

was intended to divert juveniles in the care of the state from a life of delinquency and worse.

In Julie's case, Dr. Wilmer was adamantly committed to doing exactly that, and as everyone who knew her was aware, when Dr. Wilmer set her mind on a goal, she accomplished it. At thirty-five, Terry Wilmer had a pleasant, refined bearing, a kind smile, and a will of iron. In addition to her impressive assortment of medical degrees and a family tree that read like
The Social Register,
she had three other special attributes in great abundance: intuition, compassion, and total dedication. With the tireless fervor

of a true evangelist dedicated to saving wayward souls, Theresa Wilmer had abandoned her thriving private practice and was now dedicated to saving those helpless adolescent victims of an overcrowded, underfunded state foster care system. To achieve her goals, Dr. Wilmer was shamelessly willing to exploit every tool at her disposal, including recruiting support from among her colleagues like John Frazier. In

Julie's case, she'd even enlisted the aid of distant cousins, who were far from wealthy but who had room

in their home, and hopefully in their soft hearts, for one very special little girl.

"I wanted you to have a peek at her," Terry said. She reached out to draw the draperies over the glass, just as Julie suddenly stood up, looked desperately at the fish tank, and plunged both her hands into the water.

"What the hell—" John Frazier began, then he watched in stunned silence as the girl marched toward the

preoccupied receptionist with the dead fish cradled in her dripping hands.

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Julie knew she shouldn't get water on the carpet, but she couldn't stand to see anything as beautiful as this fish with its long, flowing fins being mangled by the others. Not certain whether the receptionist was unaware of her or simply ignoring her, she walked up close behind her chair. "Excuse me," she blurted in

an overloud voice, holding out her hands.

The receptionist, who was thoroughly engrossed in her typing, gave a nervous start, swung around in her chair, and emitted a choked scream at the sight of a shining, dripping fish directly in front of her nose.

Julie took a cautious step backward but persevered.

"It's dead," she said boldly, fighting to keep her voice empty of the sentimental pity she felt. "The other fish are going to eat it, and I don't want to watch.

It's gross. If you'll give me a piece of paper, I'll wrap it up and you can put it in your trash can."

Recovering from her shock, the receptionist carefully suppressed a smile, opened her desk drawer, and

removed several tissues, which she handed to the child. "Would you like to take it with you and bury it at

home?"

Julie would have liked to do exactly that, but she thought she heard amusement in the woman's voice, and so she hastily wrapped the fish in its tissue-paper shroud and thrust it at her instead. "I'm not that stupid, you know. This is just a fish, not a rabbit or something special like that."

On the other side of the window, Frazier chuckled softly and shook his head. "She's dying to give that fish a formal burial, but her pride won't let her admit it." Sobering, he added, "What about her learning disabilities? As I recall, she's only at a second-grade level."

Dr. Wilmer gave an indelicate snort at that and reached for a manila folder on her desk containing the

results of the battery of tests Julie had recently been given. Holding the open file toward him she said with

a smile, "Take a look at her scores when the intelligence tests are administered orally and she's not

required to read."

John Frazier complied and gave a low laugh. "The kid's got a higher IQ than I do."

"Julie is a special child in a lot of ways, John. I saw glimpses of it when I reviewed her file, but when I met her face-to-face, I
knew
it was true. She's feisty, brave, sensitive, and very smart. Under all that bravado of hers, there's a rare kind of gentleness, an unquenchable hope, and quixotic optimism that she clings to even though it's being demolished by ugly reality. She can't improve her own lot in life, and so she's unconsciously dedicated herself to protecting the kids in whatever foster care facility she's put into.

She steals for them and lies for them and organizes them into hunger strikes, and they follow wherever she leads as if she were the Pied Piper. At eleven years old, she's a born leader, but if she isn't diverted very quickly, some of her methods are going to land her in a juvenile detention center and eventually prison. And that's not even the worst of her problems right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that despite all her wonderful attributes, that little girl's self-esteem is so low, it's almost nonexistent. Because she's been passed over for adoption, she's convinced she's worthless and unlovable. Because she can't read as well as her peers, she's convinced she's completely stupid and can't

learn. And the most terrifying part of it is that she's on the verge of giving up. She's a dreamer, but she's clinging to her dreams by a thread." With unintentional force, Terry finished, "I will
not
let all Julie's

potential, her hope, her optimism, go to waste."

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Dr. Frazier's brows shot up at her tone. "Forgive me for bringing this up, Terry, but aren't you the one who used to preach about not getting too personally involved with a patient?"

With a rueful smile, Dr. Wilmer leaned against her desk, but she didn't deny it. "It was easier to follow that rule when all my patients were kids from wealthy families who think they're 'underprivileged'

if they

don't get a $50,000 sports car on their sixteenth birthday. Wait until you've done more work with kids

like Julie—kids who are dependent on the 'system'

that we set up to provide for them and have somehow fallen through the cracks in that same system. You'll lose sleep over them, even if you've never

done it before."

"I suppose you're right," he said with a sigh, as he handed back the manila folder. "Out of curiosity, why

hasn't she been adopted by someone?"

Teresa shrugged. "Mostly, it's been a combination of bad luck and bad timing. According to her file at the Department of Children and Family Services, she was abandoned in an alley when she was only a few hours old. Hospital records indicate she was born ten weeks prematurely and because of that and because of the poor condition she was in when she was brought to the hospital, there was a long series of

health complications until she was seven years old, during which time she was repeatedly hospitalized and

very frail.

"The Family Services people found adoptive parents for her when she was two years old, but in the middle of the adoption proceedings, the couple decided to get a divorce, and they dumped her back into

the arms of Family Services. A few weeks later, she was placed again with another couple who'd been screened as carefully as humanly possible, but Julie came down with pneumonia, and the new

couple—who'd lost their own child at Julie's age—

went completely to pieces emotionally and pulled out

of the adoption. Afterward, she was placed with a foster family for what was only to be a temporary time, but a few weeks later, Julie's case worker was seriously injured in an accident and never returned to work. From then on it was the proverbial 'comedy of errors.' Julie's file got misplaced—"

"Her what!?" he uttered in disbelief.

"Don't judge the Family Services people too harshly, which I can see you're doing. For the most part, they're extremely dedicated and conscientious, but they're only human. Given how overworked and underfinanced they are, it's amazing they do as well as they do. In any event, to make a long story short, the foster parents had a houseful of kids to look after, and they assumed Family Services couldn't find

adoptive parents for Julie because she wasn't very healthy. By the time Family Services realized she'd gotten lost in their shuffle, Julie was five, and she'd passed the age of greatest appeal to adoptive parents.

She also had a history of poor health, and when she was removed from the foster home and placed in another, she promptly came down with a series of asthma attacks. She missed large chunks of first and second grade, but she was "such a good little girl"

the teachers promoted her from one grade to the next anyway. Her new foster parents already had three physically handicapped children in their care, and they

were so busy looking after those children that they didn't notice Julie wasn't keeping up in school, particularly because she was getting passing grades.

By fourth grade, though, Julie herself realized she couldn't do the work, and she started pretending to be ill so that she could stay home. When her foster parents caught on, they insisted she go to school, so Julie took the next obvious route to avoid it—she started cutting school and hanging around with kids on the street as often as she could. As I said earlier, she's feisty, daring, and quick—they taught her how to snitch merchandise from stores and avoid being picked up as a truant.

"You know most of the rest: Eventually she did get picked up for truancy and shoplifting and was sent to the LaSalle facility, which is where kids who aren't doing well in the foster care system are sent. A few
11

months ago, she got busted—unfairly, I think—

along with a group of older boys who were demonstrating to her their particular prowess with hot-wiring cars." With a muffled laugh, Terry finished,

"Julie was merely a fascinated observer, but she knows how to do it. She offered to demonstrate for me.

Can you imagine—that tiny girl with those enormous, innocent eyes can actually start your car without a

key! She wouldn't try to steal it though. As I said, she only takes things the kids at LaSalle can use."

With a meaningful grin, Frazier tipped his head toward the glass. "I assume they can 'use' one red pencil,

a ballpoint, and a fistful of candy."

"What?"

"In the time you've been talking to me, your prize patient has filched all that from the reception room."

"Good God!" said Dr. Wilmer but without any real concern as she stared through the glass.

"She's quick enough to do sleight-of-hand tricks,"

Frazier added with reluctant admiration. "I'd get her in

here before she figures out a way to get that aquarium out the door. I'll bet the kids at LaSalle would love

some exotic tropical fish."

Glancing at her watch, Dr. Wilmer said, "The Mathisons are supposed to call me right about now from

Texas to tell me exactly when they'll be ready to take her. I want to be able to tell Julie everything when she comes in here." As she spoke, the intercom on her desk buzzed and the receptionist's voice said,

"Mrs. Mathison is on the phone, Dr. Wilmer."

"That's the call," Terry told him happily.

John Frazier glanced at his own watch. "I'm having my first session with Cara Peterson in a few minutes."

He started toward the connecting door that opened into his office, paused with his hand on the knob, and

said with a grin, "It's just occurred to me that the distribution of workload in your program is grossly unjust. I mean," he joked, "you get to work with a girl who filches candy and pencils to give to the poor,

while you give me Cara Anderson who tried to kill her foster father. You get Robin Hood and I get Lizzie

Borden."

"You love a challenge," Theresa Wilmer replied, laughing, but as she reached for the phone, she added,

"I'm going to ask the Family Services people to transfer Mrs. Borowski out of LaSalle and into an area

where she'll only be involved with infants and small children. I've worked with her before, and she's excellent with them because they're cuddly and they don't break rules. She shouldn't be dealing with adolescents. She can't distinguish between minor adolescent rebellion and juvenile delinquency."

"You aren't by any chance getting revenge on her because she told your receptionist that Julie will steal

anything she can get her hands on?"

"No," Dr. Wilmer said as she picked up the phone.

"But that was a good example of what I meant."

When she finished her call, Dr. Wilmer got up and walked to her office door, looking forward to the surprise she was about to deliver to Miss Julie Smith.